


To An Ell Broad

by Fire_Bear



Series: Tumblr Requests [53]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (but not abusive), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Communication Failure, Confessions, Deepthroating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hugs, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Miscommunication, Multi, Neck Kissing, Nipple Play, Prostate Milking, Rough Kissing, Semi-Public Sex, Spitroasting, Theatre, harmful relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Arthur's job in America is boring, his neighbours don't want to know him and he doesn't have many friends. His theatre group is all he has - and he's about to lose that, too.Thankfully, Alfred and Francis are around to comfort him. But what their hugs devolve into may not help save the theatre...





	To An Ell Broad

**Author's Note:**

> The summary probably makes no sense...?
> 
> Anyways, this is for [this thing](http://fire-bear.tumblr.com/post/162555542123/send-in-a-word-and-ill-write-a-drabble-or) with the prompt of 'beginning' and 'theatre'.
> 
> Fun fact: 'ell' means forty-five inches and penis. The title comes from a Romeo and Juliet quote said by [Mercutio](https://www.rsc.org.uk/shakespeare/language/slang-and-sexual-language). 
> 
> Fun Fact #2: I found out the above fact only to read a part of a book a couple of days later and see the word meant in the former meaning. I had to do a double take... ^^"

In truth, Arthur had not expected to find a place of solace when he had left his beloved England to advance his career in the hated land of America. His accounting job, wherein he was forced to embrace the cold calculation his traitorous brain was so adept at, was not one where friends were typically made. Not in this company where all that mattered was the numbers, stark and harsh against the white of the document. The apartment where he was to spend his foreseeable future was surrounded by nervous families or single people out to have fun elsewhere. It was not a place to form a bond with people.

Utterly alone, Arthur sought the comfort of a community – and he found it within a local amateur dramatic society. Despite his company's worldwide establishment, Arthur's office was located in a city in the state of New York – but not New York City itself. As such, being close to Broadway, there were plenty of such societies. But the one Arthur found himself drawn to met at a rundown theatre on the outskirts of the city. As out of the way as it was, the theatre did not drum up enough business to renovate the building and so there were not many in their group.

Arthur would not have it any other way.

He enjoyed the acting lessons. He loved the improvisation sessions. He adored memorising the lines. He yearned to go on stage – and he was allowed to. Almost as soon as he had joined, he was given minor roles in some of their (sadly under-attended) shows. It was quickly decided to give him major roles and he was ecstatic.

Unfortunately, there was a blight on the theatre group. Two rich kids had taken it upon themselves to make the group their hobby. Arthur had no idea why they were so desperate to please the amateur actors but they showed up every so often and auditioned for the most important parts.

And they always got them.

No matter whether they were, from a noble hero or a beautiful prince or the heroine's love interest, they would always take them from right under Arthur's nose. Arthur always seemed to be relegated to the villain or the antagonist or the rival love interest who never got the girl. Now, Arthur did not mind those roles – in fact, he found them quite fun. But he wanted to expand his acting skills and he could not do that with them around.

The only reason he tolerated it was because of the crowds they drew on opening night, their rich families and friends turning up to support them.

Over time, Arthur wasn't sure how to feel about them. He still believed they were an interference but they were kind enough. Alfred F. Jones had the mentality of a child which was rather endearing at times and downright frustrating at others. The man loved to play the hero, with plenty of swashbuckling and over-the-top action. Elsewhere in the community, he poured money into homeless shelters and suchlike while studying at the local college.

Francis Bonnefoy was different but also quite similar. He acted a lot more mature – but it sometimes came across as him thinking he was above everyone else. His own charitable efforts seemed to be picking a major campaign and holding parties to convince his fellow rich people to part with money. With his inheritance, he had bought a chain of restaurants and was intent on making some as cheap as chips so poor people could 'enjoy his fine cuisine' while making some of them much more unique and expensive to lure in the rich. To Arthur, it seemed as if he would make a conniving villain but he much preferred the more romantic roles or the refined princes.

Both of them were also infuriatingly attractive, trailing crowds of men and women who both wanted to be them and wanted to be _with_ them. Arthur supposed it was the classic blond hair, blue eyes combo, though Alfred was darker skinned and far more muscular. Something about being the sporty one in school and college. Francis wasn't lacking muscles, either, but Arthur knew they were the lean muscles of a swimmer when he had once attempted to go for a swim and been waylaid by the man only to run out of time.

All in all, Arthur was slow to consider them friends and dodged their offers of dinner or a drink, flustered by the invitations. Instead of putting more effort into their friendship, he poured more of his heart and soul into the group, even looking over their books to help their finances. Unfortunately, even with Arthur's suggestions, things were bought and things repaired and, soon, the theatre company was in dire straits. With the threat of bankruptcy looming, the director decided it would be best to put on one last show, one to entice the audiences.

He opted for Romeo and Juliet.

While he had given Arthur the role of Mercutio rather than Paris (having given that to Francis), Arthur didn't think Shakespeare was the way to go and especially not a tragedy. Arthur relished the role while he still could and was excited to preform on opening night. However, upon seeing the size of the audience...

Arthur knew they were doomed.

* * *

"Thanks, Sarah," Arthur said after the show was over. "Would you like me to open up as well?"

"Nah," said the older woman, dropping her set of theatre keys into his open palm. "Todd's got keys as well and it's his turn to do it. Don't worry about it."

"Right-o."

They smiled at each other, nodded, and Sarah turned to go. Once she had rounded the corner and was out of sight, Arthur turned to step into his dressing room again. There were only six such rooms and each were usually given to a main character. Because of all of his work for the theatre and the help he'd provided for the play, Arthur had been given the use of one of them. He had been grateful and was even more so now.

As soon as the door was closed, he hurried to the rickety seat in front of the vanity and dropped into it. When he gazed at his appearance – the sweat dripping down his temples, his hair a little messy from running his hand through it after the show, the make up rubbed off, his Venetian outfit rumpled – Arthur slumped and put his head in his hands. Thoughts of losing the theatre, losing the group, losing touch with his newfound friends, flooded his head and he bit his lip to hold back the tears brimming there.

It wasn't long until he had failed in that, too, and was sobbing into his hands, hiding his face from the world.

He wasn't sure how long he had been crying, allowing himself a moment to drop the mask, when he heard a knock at the door. Stilling, Arthur held his breath, trying not to whimper or sob. Willing whoever it was to leave, he was dismayed to hear another knock, this one a little louder. For a moment, he considered ignoring it but he had the feeling he knew who the likely suspects were.

Since neither of them would leave unless he explicitly told them to, he snapped, "Go away!" He hoped his voice didn't sound too weak or strained through the barrier of the door.

"Aw, c'mon, Artie!" Alfred called. "We wanna go celebrate our success!"

" _Success_ ?!" exclaimed Arthur, unable to keep his emotions clamped down. "How can you  _say_ that-?" His voice cracked and he took a deep breath, praying that Alfred hadn't noticed.

"Arthur?" came Francis's voice. He sounded confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you  _see_ -?" He broke off again and took a shuddering breath.

"That's it," said Alfred and, before Arthur could protest, the door opened and Alfred rushed in. He looked around till he spotted Arthur, half-turned to the door, tears running down his cheeks. Quickly, Arthur turned, hunching over to hide from him. "Art-?"

"Go away!" Arthur yelled. "Can't you two just... just... leave me alone!" He was unable to stop a sob from escaping and he hugged himself, trembling as he tried to hold it all in.

"Don't be silly," said Francis. "We're not going to leave you like this." And a pair of arms wrapped around Arthur, squeezing his back to Francis's chest.

"What's wrong?" asked Alfred as the door closed with a click. "Why are you crying?"

"Didn't you  _see_ ?" Arthur demanded, turning back to him. Francis shifted with him and he tried to squirm away. Francis was obviously determined, however, and didn't loosen his hold.

"See what?" asked Alfred, looking bewildered. He had already changed, his hair a mess from having swept as much of the gel from his hair as possible. That one annoying strand still stuck straight up. His clothes were probably high end but he was only wearing a black, long-sleeved top and a pair of dark, skinny jeans. It rather looked as though he was about to go commit a burglary.

Frustrated, Arthur snapped at him again. "There were far less people there than on any other opening night! That means less tickets and less money and-!" Arthur had to stop to take another shaky breath. "The group's going to have to sell the theatre or else they'll go into debt."

"What, really?" asked Alfred, eyes wide. "I mean, I knew we were in trouble but I..."

"Neither of us thought it was that bad," Francis admitted.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, hoping Francis would lose his grip on them. He did, but Francis managed to keep his hands resting lightly on Arthur's upper arms instead. "Todd wanted to downplay it so we could concentrate on the play," Arthur told them.

Alfred made his way over and sat down on Arthur's vanity, wincing when it wobbled but stayed seated when it stopped moving. "I'm sorry, Artie. If I'd known..."

"What?" Arthur sneered up at him, ignoring the fact that his eyes were likely red-rimmed. "You'd have brought more of your rich friends, bought up every ticket and discouraged more of the ordinary punters from buying a ticket? We don't  _need_ rich folk. What we need is to drum up more general business, maybe revamp the whole place – but we don't have the money to do that! It's a complete disaster and I..."

"You what?" asked Francis, drawing away from him so he could move into Arthur's line of sight. He surveyed Arthur's face before focussing solely on Arthur's eyes. "Why has this upset you so much?"

"I happen to _like_ coming here. It's much more fun than other areas of my life," snapped Arthur, glowering at him.

Francis and Alfred looked at each other. For a moment, Arthur figured they probably thought he was mad. But Alfred suddenly leaned forward and it seemed more that they had come to a decision. Arthur was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was surprised to see Alfred reach forward and cup his face, wiping away some falling tears with a thumb.

Meanwhile, Francis slid behind him and hugged him from behind. His arms were now around Arthur's waist, closer to Arthur's crotch than Arthur was entirely comfortable with. Francis pressed his face into the crook of Arthur's neck, his breath brushing over Arthur's skin and sending tingles through his body. A sudden yearning of being kissed there shot through Arthur and he realised that he really needed to get laid if he was thinking that at a time like this.

"We'll figure something out," Alfred declared, unwavering in his conviction that they really would. His thumb traced under Arthur's eye, trapping him in his gaze.

"We'll save the theatre," Francis promised, the movement of his lips all the more tantalising as Arthur's mind provided what they would actually feel like against his skin. His arms held him upright as Arthur wobbled on his seat, the sudden onslaught of intimate sensations shooting through him.

Briefly, Arthur forgot what they were talking about. Then his brain kicked into gear and he pursed his lips. "Really? And just how are you going to do that?"

Grinning, Alfred leaned a little closer. Arthur thought their noses would brush if he shifted just a tad more. "We'll think of something!" Alfred told him, all confidence and blinding optimism.

"Hm," Arthur replied. "Really now? And why would you do that? It doesn't matter to either of you, in the long run. You've got plenty to be doing."

"You matter to us," Francis said into his ear. "We'd go to the ends of the Earth to make you happy."

Unable to suppress a shudder, Arthur glanced in the direction of Francis's voice. "You... what?" he asked.

"Haven't you noticed how often each of us would ask you to dinner or lunch or even just to hang out?" said Alfred, grinning wider.

"Are you trying to say...?"

"We were a bit selfish," Francis admitted. "We kept asking you in order to force you to choose. But if you don't want just one of us..."

"I... I think you've lost me," said Arthur, honestly still trying to catch up with the sudden shift in conversation.

"We're willing to share," Francis whispered in Arthur's ear and promptly pressed a kiss just below it.

Before Arthur could recover from the shock, Alfred leaned closer still. "We won't fight over you any more," he said – and kissed the corner of Arthur's eye, as if he wanted to stop the flow of tears.

"Wh-What do you mean?" asked Arthur, trying to keep himself from relaxing in Francis's grip. Whatever they wanted to do with him in this very room, he knew it was a bad idea. Even asking for further explanation was dangerous and he was sure he would regret it.

"This city may be large but there are a limited number in our social circle," Francis told him. "Alfred and I are no strangers to a relationship, both casual and serious." He pressed a kiss into Arthur's neck and Arthur couldn't help tilting his head to give him more access, pursing his lips to keep from moaning.

"And we're willing to be with you, romantically and sexually – if you'll let us," added Alfred, kissing him at the corner of his mouth.

Mouth twitching, yearning for Alfred's lips to slip over and kiss him properly, Arthur forced himself to seriously consider what they were saying. Despite everything he knew about them, he still felt like it was far too little. They were able to get along now but he wasn't sure they were ready for any sort of relationship beyond what they had now. Yet, somewhere deep inside himself, Arthur knew he wanted it, wanted _them_.

Besides, he didn't need to make a decision right now, did he? After all the stress of the theatre and the stress from the job he hated, surely he deserved a break? This was one more stressful thing to enter his life but he just wanted to relax, forget everything, take the chance to _breathe_. Maybe he could have a little bit of fun with them just now...

"I..." Arthur murmured. "I don't want to decide tonight..."

"Ah," said Francis before he could finish. "Then we will-"

"I don't want to _think_ ," Arthur interjected. "Not tonight. I just want to..." Unable to voice his thoughts beyond that, he let himself relax into Francis's arms while he reached out to Alfred with his own.

Alfred looked beyond him to Francis. Arthur could feel Francis's head move in a nod. Taking that as permission, Alfred leaned closer, allowing Arthur's hands to cup his face. Before anything else could happen, Alfred let his fingers trace Arthur's lips. "Are you sure?" he inquired, gentle and caring.

"Yes," said Arthur, firmly.

"If that is what you wish," said Francis and hugged him tighter.

Grinning, Alfred leaned forward, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips getting closer and Arthur tensed for a moment, his brain still insisting on telling him this was a bad idea. But he ignored it and allowed Alfred's lips to press against his; he relaxed once more at the feeling of soft lips against his own and arms wrapping him an embrace. He kissed Alfred back, sliding his lips over his insistently. Alfred seemed to get the hint he wasn't even aware of giving and, when Arthur opened his mouth, he slipped his tongue in to deepen the kiss. A second pair of lips suddenly entered the fray, latching onto his neck to suck a mark which would likely be visible later. Arthur moaned, enjoying the feelings, letting himself sink into the lust he had been holding at bay. His breeches were beginning to feel a little tight and he shifted, searching for friction.

Needing to breathe, Arthur pulled away from the heated kiss, turning his head towards Francis in order to prevent Alfred from stealing another kiss. As soon as he did so, Francis let go of his neck and one of his arms lifted from where he still embraced Arthur. He reached up and turned Arthur's head more towards him and, before Arthur could properly regain his breath, he was being kissed again, lips a little softer and tasting of strawberry but no less of a heated kiss. Meanwhile, lips latched onto the other side of his neck and began to kiss and suck at him, no doubt leaving another mark. Arthur let himself groan into Francis's mouth as he kissed back, letting the last rational part of himself slip away.

When he broke from Francis for breath, he murmured, "Fuck." The word gained Alfred's attention and he gently moved Arthur's head so they could kiss again. Francis went back to sucking marks into Arthur's available skin, this time on the back of his neck where he would be sure to forget about it. Finally, he had to break away from Alfred to breathe but, this time, he willingly turned his head, seeking Francis's lips. Francis immediately obliged, kissing him fiercely, though not as desperately as Alfred's seemed.

They continued these kisses for some time, Arthur getting increasingly breathless as his two partners for the evening eagerly captured his lips. Eventually, though, Arthur found the presence of mind to put a hand in front of Francis's face to stop another kiss. He had been getting increasingly uncomfortable with his trapped cock and he was far too hot. The removal of clothes were in order, particularly since he was still in his costume. And he really wanted Alfred and Francis to be naked, too.

"My costume," he said, panting.

"Ah, yes," whispered Francis, taking hold of Arthur's wrist to kiss his palm and fingers. "We wouldn't want that getting dirty, would we?"

"I dunno," Alfred mused, tapping a finger to his chin. "I reckon he'd look good in that, all messed up."

Arthur was unable to suppress a groan at the image of himself, still fully dressed, cum covering his breeches and his fancy shirt, his hair mussed, face flushed. His cock hardened further and he shifted in his chair, unable to buck his hips to seek friction from the tight hold Francis had on him. Frustrated, Arthur let his head fall back on Francis's shoulder and Francis wasted no time in giving him another kiss.

Once Francis had had his fill, he murmured against Arthur's panting mouth. "I think he likes that idea, don't you, darling?"

"There... There are spares..." Arthur managed.

"Still," said Alfred, leaning forward so that he loomed over Arthur. He let his fingers trail from Arthur's face down his neck and to his chest where they roamed, brushing firmly against his chest. Arthur could almost feel the heated path of them through his costume. "It'd be more fun if I could leave marks on him, too, Franny!" His eyes raised from Arthur's chest to his neck, clearly eyeing the marks Francis had already left.

Francis pressed his cheek to Arthur's, his stubble lightly scratching at his skin. As Alfred pouted, Francis smiled up at him. "A naked Arthur would be a sight to see," he said. "But you'd best take his bottom half off. Look at how painful that looks."

The knowledge that both of them were staring at his erection had Arthur flushing. He shifted on the chair, a little uncomfortable from being seated on such a hard seat for so long. A problem surfaced in his mind and he raised his head to look at Alfred who still seemed entranced by Arthur's straining dick. "I'll need to stand up to get them off."

"Now, now," said Francis with a tone of one berating Arthur for being silly. "There are two of us. There's no need for you to get on your feet." And, with that, he leaned forward and captured Arthur's lips again.

As Arthur relaxed into the kiss once again, relishing the taste of Francis and the movement of their lips and tongues, Alfred let his fingers trail ever lower. Closer, closer, down to the waistband of his breeches. Arthur gasped into Francis's mouth as Alfred's hands ignored it and continued on, ghosting over his crotch. Those teasing hands continued downwards, stroking down his legs till he reached the smart, black shoes Arthur was wearing.

While Alfred slid the shoes off, Francis broke away from Arthur's mouth to kiss along his cheek. Arthur sighed and let his head fall back again as Alfred lifted his other foot. The pleasant sensations of being touched and kissed made it seem like they were worshipping him. He revelled in it, adoring the situation.

Francis's lips reached his jaw and that was when he used his teeth, biting at him and sucking marks into a more visible place. He licked along it, eliciting a groan from Arthur, and, as he did so, he wrapped both his arms around Arthur's waist. That was all the warning he got before Francis lifted him a little, grunting with the effort. Alfred was quick to pull both his breeches and tights down to his knees. Francis set him down and his bare bum was exposed to the warmth of the chair.

"Oho!" said Francis. "What's this? You were going commando?"

"Woah..." muttered Alfred, staring down at him. "I don't know if I'll be able to remember my lines tomorrow night..."

Not knowing whether to be embarrassed or smug, Arthur pressed his legs together. "Wearing underwear under all that was uncomfortable..." he explained. "But I had Sarah help me buy some of my own so it wouldn't matter..." He trailed off and glanced down at his erection which was still standing at attention and craving a touch.

"Forget about that," Francis told them both, speaking close to Arthur's ear. "This isn't the time for it." He licked at Arthur's earlobe, making him shudder. "Didn't you want to put marks on him, Alfred?"

"Yeah," Alfred agreed, taking hold of Arthur's left ankle. "I want to put some on his chest, too, though," he added, pointedly.

"We'll get to that soon. For now..." Francis chose that moment to suck Arthur's earlobe into his mouth, his tongue laving around it and sticking inside of Arthur's ear. It made Arthur gasp before he made a strange keening noise as Alfred began to kiss up Arthur's leg.

With one mouth moving constantly upwards, kissing and sucking and biting, and the other doing the same to his neck, Arthur could do nothing but stay still, trembling with need and want. Double the sensation was making him harder by the moment, all his thoughts focussed on how to make them give him even more pleasure.

Unfortunately, his partners were teasers and they ignored his noises and his squirming. He wasn't quite at the stage of pleading, thankfully, and he was thankful for that – he didn't want either of them to know how much he desired this. However, he couldn't stop a hand from reaching for his cock, desperate for friction. Both of them noticed and a hand grabbed his wrist while another laced his fingers with his, holding him tight. Looking down, Arthur noted that Alfred had chosen to hold his hand so intimately. Alfred grinned at him for a moment before glancing beyond him at Francis. Something must have been silently communicated for Alfred reluctantly let go of his fingers and watched as Francis lifted Arthur's hand to his mouth.

For a moment, all Francis did was kiss at his fingers once more. Then, after Arthur had relaxed once more, he placed the tip of his tongue against the tip of Arthur's middle finger. Before Arthur could work out what he was about to do, Francis's lips wrapped themselves around the fingertip and sucked the whole thing into his mouth. Arthur groaned and tried to shift so that Francis's other arm, the one still diligently holding him upright, would hopefully brush against his dick.

But it didn't work and that was because Alfred's grip on his left ankle tightened. Blinking down at him, Arthur watched Alfred lift his foot once again. He placed a tender kiss to the ball of Arthur's foot before lightly tracing his lips along Arthur's sole. At his toes, he paused – and stuck his tongue out to lick his way from base to tip of his big toe. Arthur's eyes widened as he realised what he was about to do but he couldn't protest as Francis gave his finger a particularly hard suck. Blood rushing downwards again, Arthur's eyes fluttered close in bliss. That was when Alfred wrapped his lips around Arthur's big toe and began to suck on it in earnest.

Heart pounding, breathing heavy, Arthur could do nothing but moan. The thought of having those mouths at other areas of his body was erotic and the sensations were enough to make him buck his hips. He desperately needed something to stick his cock in but Arthur had the feeling that one or the other would start sucking on his other fingers if he tried with his other hand. Instead, he gripped the bottom of the seat tightly, trying to keep himself sane as the two of them tortured him.

"Mm," said Francis as he let Arthur's finger go with a quiet pop. "I never would have expected you to enjoy that so much."

"Fuck," murmured Arthur, hoping neither of them would hear it. "Can you just-?"

"What?" asked Alfred as he set his now damp foot on the ground. He grabbed hold of his other ankle and lifted Arthur's leg in the air. Alfred set his lips and teeth on the bone of Arthur's ankle and went to work sucking another mark onto him. He pulled back to add, "What can we do?"

"Fuck me," growled Arthur, arching off the chair as Francis also sucked another mark on his neck, this one close to his Adam's apple. "Please, fucking-! Just-" he babbled, reaching up with his now free hand to grab hold of Francis's soft, lovely locks.

"Ah, ah, ah," Francis said, all cheer and innocence. "We have to take your shirt off. Can't have that getting stained either."

"Bloody hurry up, then," Arthur snapped, leaning away from Francis to try to take it off himself. Alfred momentarily distracted him by lifting his leg a little higher. Arthur wobbled a little till Francis drew him back which allowed Alfred to lift his leg still higher and kiss the back of his leg.

"There's no rush," Francis whispered into his ear as Alfred continued his ministrations, the same kissing and biting as he did to his other leg.

"Yes there is," Arthur retorted. "I have to-" His thoughts were cut off as Francis's arm moved, both his hands shifting to his hips to massage them. At the same time, Alfred sucked another mark into the juncture between Arthur's leg and his balls, so close his cheek briefly brushed against Arthur's cock. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. Trying to regain the thread of what he was saying, he finished with a weak, "-I need you..."

"Really?" asked Alfred, looking pleased.

"And who are we to deny you?" Francis added, his hands sliding up the shirt, brushing along Arthur's happy trail and up, up, up. It wasn't long until his fingers had found their target, brushing against Arthur's nipples. It made him gasp and arch towards the feeling. Alfred was quick to help Francis pull the top off, leaving Arthur entirely naked.

There was a pause as Francis shifted behind him and Alfred leaned forward, his eyes raking over his body. Arthur had no doubt that Francis was doing the same. "Wow," was Alfred's reaction.

"Beautiful," murmured Francis.

"Hard," Arthur quipped. "Is one of you going to do something about it or do I need to find myself a bathroom stall?"

"Ooh, still feisty, I see," Francis commented, chuckling into Arthur's ear. And he promptly bit at the back of Arthur's shoulder, teeth sharp and tongue swirling. It made Arthur cry out in surprise and pain and pleasure. His head fell back, his ear tickled by Francis's hair.

"I like feisty," Alfred pointed out before ducking his head to Arthur's uncovered collarbone. He made another mark there, just as sharp as Francis's. Arthur found himself arching upwards, seeking more. His free arm flapped about, unsure as to which man he wanted to grab at.

Alfred grabbed the hand, slipping his fingers between Arthur's as he lightly traced his lips and teeth down to a spot just above Arthur's nipple, sucking another spot there. Francis moved to his other shoulder to do the same. Biting his lip around a muffled moan, Arthur squeezed Alfred's hand tight and let himself partially relax, falling back onto the chair again.

Suddenly, Francis pulled away. Arthur almost whimpered at the loss of his touch but Alfred more than made up for it by sliding his way down to his nipple. Just as Alfred's lips brushed the nub, Francis spoke. "This is no good. The back of the chair is in my way."

"Huh," said Alfred against Arthur's skin. "Didn't think about that. Don't wanna move, though." And Alfred pouted, a strange sensation of a not-quite-kiss against Arthur's nipple.

Arthur's brain slowly tried to restart, his chest heaving as he panted. His eyes darted around, searching for stimulation, searching for a solution, searching for eyes to gaze into. As he did so, he caught sight of the unobscured part of the reflection in the mirror and his eyes landed on one of the few new items of furniture that had been bought in the last few months.

"Couch," he said, jerking a thumb in its direction. "It'll be soft enough to..." Unable to finish that sentence, he let it hang and struggled to sit up properly.

"Ah," Francis replied, sounding happy. "Good idea. Doing this here would be too uncomfortable."

"Hard on your knees, you mean," teased Alfred as he straightened. He pulled his fingers from Arthur's hand and twisted his own around until he could helpfully pull him up. Arthur let him, trying not to wobble when he stood on shaky legs. Behind him, there was a hum of appreciation.

"You have a tattoo," said Francis, clearly interested.

"Yeah," Arthur admitted, glancing over his shoulder at the man. Now that he could see him, he knew that Francis would have to remove clothes. His shirt consisted of blocks of colours, clearly some sort of designer one. The bulge in his tailored trousers looked like it was close to bursting free on its own.

Fingers tracing down Arthur's sides to the small of his back, Francis inspected it, even going so far as to bend over to gaze at it from close up. Arthur waited to find out what he thought about it: a black and white set of the common dramatic masks, white for the sad face and black for the happy one. He felt Francis's fingers tracing the outline, drawing close to the cleft of his arse. It made him shudder as he stayed still, completely naked and at their mercy.

Finally, Francis said, "You grow more and more beautiful the more I get to know you."

"What is it? I wanna see!" In his excitement, Alfred dropped Arthur's hand and darted around him, staring down at him. "Oh, woah, cool!" Alfred's fingers joined Francis's in tracing the tattoo, their hands knocking against each other. Arthur suppressed another shudder but found himself now looking at himself in the mirror, his dick achingly hard. The thought of watching himself being fucked had him biting his lip, trying to concentrate on the men behind him.

"When did you get that?" Francis asked, curiously.

"As soon as I could legally get one," Arthur replied, wondering whether he should take the initiative and lead them to the couch. "Eighteen," he added, in case America had different laws.

"Seriously?!" exclaimed Alfred. "Why'd ya want one?"

Arthur shrugged a shoulder. "I was in the drama club at school but my parents wouldn't pay for me to go to an actual drama school. So I made do with the unis they agreed on. But I wanted to remember a passion I was going to lose and... Well, it made my parents mad when they found out so it was all for the best." He turned his head to smirk at them over his shoulder and watched two sets of blue eyes widen in surprise, quickly darkening with lust.

"Well, then..." murmured Francis, brushing his fingers along Arthur's skin until he was gripping his hips. "Shall we?"

"Yes," answered Arthur, immediately. He let Francis guide him to the couch. Alfred took his hand as the three of them reached it, helping him to clamber on. Once Arthur was kneeling sideways on it, he quickly pressed a kiss to Arthur's knuckles before climbing on himself.

"How're we doing this, then?" Alfred asked, looking quite eager.

Shaking his head at him, Arthur leaned forward, almost breaking Francis's grip on him. He pressed a kiss to Alfred's lips, using a hand to pull him down to meet him halfway. His other hand gripped the back of the couch to keep his balance. Francis followed his lead and quickly reached around to grip Arthur's chin, pulling him away from Alfred abruptly, just as their tongues tangled, to guide him into a kiss with Francis. Arthur's lidded eyes caught sight of the string of saliva briefly joining him and Alfred before Francis broke it with his own kiss.

Watching them, breathing a little heavy, Alfred was quick to join in the fray, evidently getting the message: they'd spent too long talking, in Arthur's opinion, and he needed to be riled up before they spoke of who was sticking what where. Alfred's mouth latched onto Arthur's collarbone, sucking a new mark onto his skin. As Francis and Arthur kissed, Alfred's mouth moved, leaving a string of hickeys from one side of Arthur's body to the other.

Breathless, Arthur tried to pull away from Francis, his mind filling with need once more, his body reacting. He managed to only get far enough away for long enough to take a breath before Francis reeled him back in. Tongues tangled, Francis's hands squeezed his hips, Alfred's teeth bit into his skin. Arthur's eyes flickered from side to side, watching Alfred and looking at what he could see of Francis.

Alfred's shirt brushed along Arthur's skin and he suddenly realised that he was still the only one naked. Grabbing at Alfred, he tugged at the collar of Alfred's shirt. Somehow, that got Francis to release him, his own teeth digging into a spot on Arthur's shoulder blade. He groaned at that, barely having the time to make the noise before Alfred's lips crashed into his again. Allowing the kiss, Arthur waited a moment, revelling in the feeling of Francis's lips moving lower. Eventually, he thought to grab the bottom of Alfred's shirt and pulled it upwards. Alfred obediently raised his arms and let Arthur pull it off for him, his hands immediately resting on Alfred's muscled chest. Lips crashed into his again as he let his hands roam downwards.

Behind him, Francis pulled away from him. Rustling sounds followed and Arthur presumed that Francis was stripping. But he was quick to return to worshipping Arthur's body, using the grip he had on Arthur's hips for balance as he kissed his way downwards, sucking marks into various points.

Meanwhile, Arthur's fingers curled in Alfred's waistband, clinging to it as he enjoyed the attention to his back. Alfred's tongue curled around Arthur's in his mouth, Alfred persistently sucking on Arthur's bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss, trying to concentrate for long enough to unzip Alfred's trousers. But there was a button in the way and he couldn't get his fingers to work, distracted as he was.

Chuckling into Arthur's mouth, Alfred gently pulled away, smiling at him as Arthur tried to follow him. "I'll get it," he murmured. Arthur blinked for a moment, watching him undo the pesky garment. But, before he could gaze upon Alfred's cock, Francis's teeth latched onto his tattoo and he began to suck there. Arthur cried out in surprise, his hips bucking upwards. Francis squeezed them and Arthur found himself bending backwards, trying to simultaneously arch away and get himself closer.

Before he could recover enough to straighten, Alfred, now devoid of trousers and underwear, ducked down and sucked one of Arthur's nipples in his mouth. Arthur gasped as Alfred rolled it around in his mouth, laving his tongue against it. Even as he did that, Francis's lips brushed across his skin as he moved over to just above his arse cheeks. There, he bit him before trailing another blazing path across to the other side. An odd, high-pitched noise tore itself from Arthur's throat and his free hand grabbed hold of Alfred's hair, his other gripping the couch so tightly that he feared he would tear the fabric.

"Do you have a biting kink, Arthur," asked Francis, mouth pressed against his tattoo once more.

"Whuh?" said Arthur, rather intelligently. It was much more than he thought he would be able to say so he was quite proud that he managed to get that out through his heavy panting.

"Mmm?" Alfred hummed into Arthur's nipple. Arthur pursed his lips in an effort to stop himself from making any more noises. That proved to be impossible as Francis licked across his tattoo at the same time Alfred decided to bite the nipple he still had in his mouth. He yelled in surprise, pain and pleasure, his hips bucking again, desperate for a touch.

"Told you," said Francis smugly, shifting so that his chin pressed into Arthur's bare shoulder.

"Yeah," said Alfred as he released Arthur's nipple. He left the other neglected as he moved downwards, sucking in another couple of marks as Francis nipped at Arthur's earlobe, playfully changing how hard he did so with each bite.

"D-Damn... you... I..." Arthur gave up when he realised that he wasn't entirely sure what he had been trying to say.

"Oh, dear," Francis murmured, his husky voice sending tingles throughout Arthur's body. Arthur was also quite sure that he was beginning to leak pre-cum, just from the biting and Francis's voice. "Did you hear that, Alfred? He's cursing at us."

"Ah, that's quite mild," Alfred said against Arthur's stomach, just above his belly button. "I wanna hear him ask us to fuck 'im." And, with that being said, he dipped a little lower and stuck his tongue into Arthur's belly button. Arthur gasped and arched into the touch, his head falling back and onto Francis's shoulder. Francis took the opportunity to kiss him so that his tongue was lavishing attention on Arthur as well.

They both pulled back a moment later and Arthur had to take a moment to realise that they had stopped. It was as if his brain was in the process of shutting down, of giving himself over completely and utterly to the two of them. Would they be willing to have him forever? Arthur mentally shook himself, reminding himself briefly of the fact that this would be a one time thing. Or would it? With his mind in a muddle, he shook his head and suddenly saw that both of them were waiting for him, Alfred watching him closely, Francis nuzzling into his neck. "What...?" he managed to say.

Alfred grinned at him, quite cheekily in Arthur's opinion. "What d'ya want us to do, darling?"

Blinking at him, Arthur turned his head slightly in an effort to ask for Francis's assistance. When the other man only hummed, Arthur sighed. "Fuck me, already," he grumbled, quite annoyed that nobody had touched his cock yet. Honestly, what did it take to get someone to make him come around here?

"Now, that's not very polite," Francis teased, lifting his head to lick along the rim of Arthur's ear.

"P- _Please_ ," Arthur moaned, tilting his head to the side to make it easier for Francis.

"We can't turn ya down after you've asked so nicely," said Alfred. He eagerly reached towards Arthur's dick. Holding his breath, Arthur watched with trembling anticipation as he waited for Alfred's touch.

"Wait," Francis interrupted them, making Alfred freeze.

"What is it?" asked Alfred, worriedly.

"Do you have any lube here, Arthur?"

Flushing a brighter red than he already was, Arthur turned his head as much as possible so he could glare at Francis. "Of course not! What do you think I am?!"

"I'm sorry," Francis murmured with a placating tone. "I only wanted to point out that we have nothing with which to, mm, make you comfortable as we fuck you..."

Shivering at his words, Arthur frowned. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"Well," said Francis and Arthur could almost hear the smirk. "Are you able to balance with your legs closer together?"

Even as he experimentally did as he was told, Arthur couldn't figure out what Francis was getting at. Francis's hands left him and he heard the shifting of clothes behind him; Arthur turned his head enough to spot Francis rummaging around in the pocket of his trousers. Eventually, he pulled out a small tin of Vaseline which he quickly popped open and scooped some out. Then, as Arthur frowned at him, he reached down and his cool fingers suddenly brushed against Arthur's inner thighs. Gasping, Arthur clutched at Alfred's upper arm, gripping tightly. Smiling, Alfred leaned forward to pepper kisses across Arthur's face, Arthur's eyes fluttering closed.

Francis continued massaging the Vaseline into his legs for a while before withdrawing completely. Arthur could hear the noise of skin on skin as Francis jerked himself off. He lost his breath for a moment, wondering if Francis was about to cum all over him without touching Arthur any further. But there was another popping noise and the sound of something dropping to the couch. Francis's hands quickly re-established their place on Arthur's hips.

"Ready?" he asked into Arthur's ear. Arthur frantically nodded. "Alfred, you take care of him."

"Yessir," Alfred replied with a quick salute. He shifted forwards then until their cocks bumped together. Arthur bit his lip as he watched the other man line them up, Alfred's a little bigger than his. Alfred let his hands drop between them, wrapping around Arthur's dick so that he was pressed against Alfred's own. His free arm went around Arthur's back, holding him close.

Behind him, Arthur felt something poke against the gap between his legs. Suddenly realising what Francis was aiming to do, he froze, waiting for Francis to move. And he did, achingly slowly as he pushed his way between Arthur's legs. With Francis's position, his cock dragged along scant centimetres from Arthur's arsehole and, as he pushed further forward, shoved its way under his balls, rubbing against the sensitive sack. Arthur sucked in a breath as he felt it, well aware that he was about to be touched in the two most sensitive places in his body.

He desperately hoped he would last.

Once Francis had gone as far as he could, he paused. Breathing rather heavily, Arthur turned to look, wondering why they were all so still. "Please," he breathed, barely audible.

With his chin perched on Arthur's shoulder, Francis heard him. He smiled at him before shifting his gaze to Alfred. Beckoning him down, Alfred leaned closer. For a moment, Arthur thought Alfred was about to kiss him. Instead, Francis released his hold on one hip to grab Alfred's chin and pull him in into a passionate kiss of his own. Arthur watched from close up, entranced by the way their lips melded against each other, the way their tongues expertly tangled and released, the way Francis nipped at Alfred and Alfred sucked at Francis's tongue. It was honestly one of the most erotic things he had ever seen and he groaned, loudly, letting his head fall back as he tried to move against Alfred's cock.

They parted then, Alfred groaning. "I think we're ready," Francis murmured before turning his head to kiss Arthur, his tongue pushing into his mouth immediately. Arthur kissed back just as fervently, enjoying the feel of it, the tangle of tongues and teeth and lips. Alfred's free hand rubbed against Arthur's shoulder blades, sending tingles down Arthur's spine as a second pair of arms encircled his waist.

Just as Francis released Arthur from his kiss in order for them both to breathe, both men began to move. Alfred squeezed their dicks together, stroking them both firmly while he rutted against him, giving Arthur the friction he had been yearning for. At the same time, Francis drew back, rubbing against Arthur's balls and sending spikes of pleasure straight to the building pressure Arthur could feel right at the pit of his stomach. Just as slowly, he thrust back in, the slide of his cock between Arthur's legs tantalisingly close to the real thing. Even as this was happening, Alfred's lips found Arthur's and he was being kissed as well.

They quickly got into a rhythm, Arthur moving against them, desperate for more. Each time he broke away from a kiss to regain his breath, a different pair latched on, sucking him into another snog. Alfred kept to the same pace, not too fast and not too slow and completely constant, never faltering. His moans were either muffled in Arthur's neck where he would suck the occasional hickey or in his kisses. Francis was panting, his pace increasing over time as it became less likely that he would slip from between Arthur's legs.

Pleasure built within Arthur. His world was just the three of them and the couch beneath them, the soft cushions shifting with each movement. Breaths were shared. Taste of tongues and mouths. Slap of skin on skin. The pull against his cock. Thrusting from behind. Teeth biting. Nipples brushed, pleasure spiking through him. His name on others' lips. Moans stolen from his mouth. Half names groaned, desperate.

More. He needed more. Too far gone to request such a thing, he began to make bigger movements. With a thrust backwards, Arthur remembered to squeeze his legs together. Then he surged forwards, pressing against the cock trapped with his. His erratic movements made his partners speed up and soon he was lost once again in building pleasure. Two sets of lips found his, one kissing at one side, panting heavily. The other pair bit at his lower lip, tugging at it.

That sent him over the edge and, with a loud shout, he came.

As soon as he'd finished, he slumped. Trying not to fall on either Alfred or Francis, Arthur managed, just barely, to make sure he fell sideways into the back of the couch. Held up by it, he slowly became aware that Alfred had let go of his cock. Francis was still thrusting into him but his pace was quick and his angles changed with each one. He was clearly close to his climax. Glancing up at Alfred, Arthur noted his blissful expression as he raised a cum-stained hand to lick it off. There was also some on Alfred's stomach and Arthur could feel a fair amount on his own.

Suddenly, something sticky hit Arthur's legs and the underside of his balls. It made him shudder and he gasped. Alfred heard him and swooped in for a slow kiss: Arthur would almost have said it was loving, if he wasn't convinced otherwise. Behind him, Francis pulled away. Once his cock was out of the way, he slumped against Arthur, gathering him in his arms.

It was peaceful for a while. But, as Arthur came down from his high, he remembered everything he had been worried about. This situation only added to his concerns. Even after their activities, Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about either of them. Their entire relationship had gone too fast for him to acknowledge, from rivals to irritants to sometime friends to lovers.

Despite the brief respite from his troubles, he regretted it, at least a little. Especially since they had been so honest with him about their own feelings.

"Alfred," he said, his voice a little hoarse from his shouting. "Francis. About choosing..."

"No," said Francis, sounding tired. "Don't. We'll discuss this when you aren't so stressed."

"I'm not-"

"Morning," grunted Alfred, clearly about to drop off.

"Mm," Francis agreed. "We should go home, get to bed... After we've gotten cleaned up, of course."

Arthur tried one more time to talk about what had happened before giving up and letting Alfred and Francis wipe him down before they each went their separate ways for the night.

* * *

Two and a half weeks later, Arthur stood in the middle of the barren stage, facing the empty seats. He had turned on the house lights and a single spotlight which shone down behind him. If there had been anyone to see him, Arthur suspected he would be mostly in shadow. There was a tense silence as he gazed out at the building, trying to memorise the sight.

In order to remember what it felt like to act, what it had felt like to have the audience's attention upon him, Arthur took a deep breath. Then, in a voice that would be loud enough to carry to the balcony above, he began to recite one of his favourite Shakespearean passages.

"All the world's a stage," he began, sweeping his arm out to encompass the entirety of the room and the world. "And all the men and women merely players." Arthur placed a hand on his hip in an effort to indicate that he was, indeed, an actor. "They have their exits" – he paused there, struck with a deep sadness, before he ploughed on – "and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." Here, Arthur paused again, this time so he could walk to stage right. "At first, the infant" – he mimed crying – "mewling and puking in the nurse's arms." A few steps to his left and Arthur said, "Then the whining schoolboy" – he pulled a dissatisfied face – "with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school." He dragged his feet as he neared the centre. "And then the lover-"

"I think that should be _lovers_ , don't you, Alfred?"

Making a muffled, surprised sound, Arthur spun around to stare at the intruders, eyes wide. Both Alfred and Francis were smiling at him, expressions soft. Alfred was wearing a t-shirt and jeans which usually indicated that he'd come straight from home. Francis, meanwhile, was just as impeccably dressed as ever, his smart ensemble even completed with a tie.

"What are you two doing here?" he snapped. Arthur still wasn't sure how he felt about them or how he felt about what they had done together. On the one hand, they'd sort of promised to save the theatre for him. They hadn't done anything of the sort and, as soon as the theatre had gone on the market the week before, it had been sold. Arthur was losing the theatre and it was all the rich kids' fault for not doing as they said. And the whole encounter in the dressing room felt as if he had been using them as a form of stress relief.

Yet... There was something there, something deeper, something that just hadn't been touched upon. It felt as if he had the beginning of some sort of more intense feelings for the two of them. But he couldn't separate lust from love and lust from a sense of reliance on them to lift his spirits. It was very confusing and he'd been avoiding them as much as possible, ignoring their calls and slipping away from the theatre group before they could corner him.

"We figured you'd be here," Alfred said by way of explanation, walking closer, Francis keeping in step.

"It's the last night before the theatre officially changes hands, after all," Francis added.

"And we heard you saying to Todd that you still had the keys Sarah had given you."

By that point, they had reached Arthur and Francis placed a gentle hand on Arthur's arm. Arthur tensed but Francis merely turned him around so they could all face the non-existent audience. His hand ended up at the small of Arthur's back and Arthur had to resist squirming away. "It will be a shame to lose this," said Francis with a sigh. To Arthur, it sounded as though he was trying to hint at something.

"It's kinda cool to be here with no-one around," Alfred commented, hooking his arm around Arthur's.

For an instant, Arthur considered staying where he was. Then his discomfort with the situation overtook him and he shook them off. "It was even better without you two here. What do you want?" he demanded, turning to frown at them.

They looked at each other and Alfred shrugged. Francis shook his head and looked back at Arthur. "We thought you'd be upset and would like the company."

"I don't want it," said Arthur, shortly.

"Really?" Francis raised an eyebrow. His knowing look pinned Arthur where he stood, seeing right through him.

Grief suddenly struck Arthur, leaving him feeling choked. It was ridiculous, really, but he felt as if he was alone. He was the only one truly upset about the closure of the theatre and the disbanding of its group. The others had already joined other ones close by or were going to pick up different hobbies instead. Not even Francis or Alfred were visibly upset and so they couldn't comfort him properly. Arthur had to blink back tears and tried to find words to speak, to dismiss them, to excuse himself.

"Oh, Arthur," murmured Francis, stepping forward. He stopped when he saw Arthur tense up, unsure what Francis intended to do. Would it end up like last time?

Would he enjoy it just as much?

His blinking did not have the desired affect and a single tear rolled down his cheek. He pursed his lips and clenched his fists, trying to keep more at bay. But he was going to be fighting a losing battle unless he quickly found a way to distract himself. Getting away from the other two men would probably help...

"Please don't cry, Artie..." said Alfred, quietly. Surprised, Arthur looked up at him, another tear winning in the process. Alfred's smile was strained as if he was in pain and trying not to show it, trying to cheer Arthur up. "You don't need to cry. We've found a way to-"

Upon realising that Alfred was about to spout lies in order to comfort him, Arthur felt his heart clench. He didn't need lies or false hope. Any comfort Francis or Alfred would think to give him would be meaningless words and it would only hurt him more. So, to save himself the pain, he darted forward a couple of steps, grabbed the front of Alfred's dark shirt and pulled him down into a heated kiss. He let his eyes flutter shut as he kissed him, using his tongue and teeth as much as possible. Alfred moaned into the kiss and pulled him closer. Before he could sink into the bliss of intimacy, Arthur reached out and grabbed Francis by his tie, pulling him close. Francis was quick to oblige, his arms wrapping around Arthur's waist instantly.

"Is this truly what you want, Arthur?" Francis whispered into his ear, lips so close they brushed against it. Arthur broke away from the kiss, panting against Alfred's lips. He only got a moment's respite before Alfred tugged him still closer and kissed Arthur even more deeply than before, tongue down Arthur's throat with no room for a shift in dominance. Arthur welcomed it just as he welcomed Francis's wandering hands, one sliding under his shirt and the other trailing fingers over his arse. "Do you really want to be comforted like the last time?"

In response, Arthur pulled away from Alfred and turned his head. Alfred immediately dipped down to kiss along Arthur's jaw as Arthur tugged Francis closer. Francis turned his head just in time for Arthur to plant a frantic kiss on his lips. They kissed for some time, long enough for Alfred to feel the need to duck lower and begin to diligently suck a hickey into Arthur's neck.

They finally broke apart and Arthur felt the lust running through his body, tingles sending thrills of pleasure straight to his dick which was quickly hardening. Thoughts of the last time flooded his head and the question that had been bugging him since then. _Would it have been better with proper lube?_ "I need this," he said, breathlessly.

Both his partners straightened, glancing at each other. "Are you sure?" asked Alfred. "Last time..."

"Was amazing," said Arthur, hurriedly. He felt a burning need to remove all his clothes and let them fuck him mercilessly, lube be damned. "I want it."

Again, Alfred and Francis looked at each other. Alfred wrinkled his nose, seemingly more reluctant than before. Francis shrugged and, with a sigh, Alfred's shoulders slumped and he nodded. "We gonna go back to one of ours?" he suggested.

Arthur didn't think he could wait that long. "The lead actor's dressing room has a nice couch," he said, pointedly.

"Why don't we just do it here?" suggested Francis. Both Alfred and Arthur turned to him, perplexed. "I saw some props on the way in and I think there was a couch. One of those ones that are easy to wheel on and off the stage. If we take the cushions from it and lay them down on the floor, we can kneel on them – while we fuck each other senseless."

Shuddering, Arthur glanced towards the rows of seats facing them, watching them. "Here?" he asked. "On the stage?"

"Mmhmm." Francis smirked at him. "No-one's going to come in to see us. Unless you _want_ someone to see us?"

"No," Arthur quickly replied. "Um... But we don't have any... _things_."

"I've got a condom in my pocket," Alfred helpfully supplied. "Always keep one on me, just in case."

"As do I. And..." Francis reached into his back pocket and pulled out a foil packet which clearly declared it as lube. "Voíla!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing.

Inhaling sharply, Arthur's mind provided him with plenty of images of being opened up and filled with two thick cocks. Would the lube in one packet be enough for both Alfred and Francis? He found himself hoping so before mentally shaking himself and telling himself to calm down. Even as he did so, doubts niggled at him and he wondered if he should even be encouraging this.

"D'ya have more than one?" asked Alfred, sounding doubtful.

"No," Francis admitted, though he seemed unperturbed. "I was thinking that we should be in a somewhat similar position to the last time."

"What?! But that's not-!" Alfred began.

Arthur quickly interrupted him. "What exactly do you mean...?"

Grinning lasciviously, Francis slipped around behind Arthur and hugged him, holding him tightly against Francis's entire body. "Don't you want to taste Alfred?" Francis asked in a whisper that carried. "Don't you want to taste his cock? Feel it heavy on your tongue? Feel it at the back of your throat? Drink down his cum? And all while I fuck you from behind..."

With his trousers suddenly far too tight, Arthur groaned, the sound echoing. It was exhilarating to hear it resound in the theatre, increasing his arousal. His heart was pounding and he _needed_ to be fucked. Apparently, at both ends. Whimpering a little, Arthur ground back against Francis, getting increasingly desperate.

"Is that a yes?" Francis sounded amused even as he reciprocated, running his entire hard length up against Arthur's arse.

Moaning, Arthur grasped for something to hold onto and found himself gripping Alfred's upper arms. "Y-Yes," he gasped, running his hands upwards, aiming for Alfred's head to pull him down into a kiss.

"Yes what?" teased Francis. Alfred laughed at that, grinning down at Arthur.

Frowning up at him, Arthur tangled his hand in Alfred's hair and tugged. Alfred's eyes fluttered closed and he groaned. Arthur suddenly felt the desire to be the one on top. Maybe he could get Francis to fuck him while he fucked Alfred. But they only had one packet of lube and the idea of sucking on Alfred's large cock made his stomach flutter and his breath catch in his throat. Perhaps another time...

Before he could contemplate what he had been thinking of, he pulled Alfred down and allowed himself to lose himself in the kiss. Tongues, teeth, lips, Francis grinding slowly against him, waiting for an answer.

Breaking away from Alfred with a gasp, Arthur turned his head, searching for Francis's eyes and mouth. "Yes, fuck me like that," he quickly demanded before he managed to latch his lips onto Francis's questing ones. As they kissed, Alfred ran his hands up and down Arthur's chest. Then he quickly began to unbutton Arthur's shirt.

Francis pulled away from Arthur ever so slightly and Arthur tried to follow him. Chuckling, Francis pulled back a little more to quickly say. "Alfred. Please get the cushions." His lips brushed Arthur's lips with every word and Arthur surged towards Francis to kiss him, pressing himself back against him.

"What? Why me?" Alfred whined, pouting. It was a pronounced pout, Alfred pushing his lips out as far as they would go; Arthur wanted to kiss him.

When Francis ground up against him once again, Arthur had to break away with a gasp, turning clouded eyes to Alfred. " _Please_ , Al."

Eyes widening, Alfred dumbly nodded. They stared at each other for a moment more. Francis took the opportunity of their distraction to ground up again. With Arthur's mouth free, he groaned, the echo spurring Alfred into action. The other man rushed off, Arthur's shirt flapping in the breeze.

As soon as Alfred was gone, Francis let go of Arthur to tug at his shirt. Arthur allowed him to slip it off him. As soon as it was on the stage floor, Francis practically attacked Arthur's neck. With kisses and biting, Francis quickly marked it. His arms wrapped around Arthur again but he kept them high above his waist. Fingers nimbly trailed across Arthur's chest till he found Arthur's nipples: Arthur gasped as he pinched them between thumb and forefinger and began to roll them.

"Ah! Fuck, F-Francis..."

"Mm, Arthur." Francis leaned up to tug on Arthur's earlobe with his teeth, one hand trailing downwards. "Need to get these off, hm?" He ran his hand along Arthur's waistband, stopping when his fingers alighted upon the button.

"Yes," Arthur answered.

Francis obliged him, unbuttoning it with one hand, the other still rubbing Arthur's nipple. Slowly, teasingly, Francis pulled at the zipper, pulling it down just as slowly. Once he'd opened the trousers completely, he stuck his hands down to grip at Arthur through his boxers. Arthur gasped, arching back into him, head on Francis's shoulder as he gripped Francis's arms. With a grin, Francis leaned over to kiss Arthur, not letting up on his ministrations to his nipple. Strangely, he didn't bother to stroke Arthur and Arthur had to buck into his hand in order to convey what he wanted to happen. Francis only chuckled.

It was at that point that Alfred returned, holding three cushions which he dropped onto the floor nearby. As soon as he had, he hurried over to them and grabbed hold of Arthur's open trousers. With them in his tight hold, he pulled Arthur towards the cushions and out of Francis's grasp. Arthur huffed as he stumbled after him.

"This is not the manhandling I want," Arthur grumbled.

"We're getting there," replied Alfred as he stopped Arthur before he could stand on the cushions. Before Arthur could say or do anything else and before Francis could catch up with them, Alfred pulled Arthur's trousers and boxers down in one fell swoop, Arthur's cock springing out to stand at attention. He got on his knees to help Arthur step out of them as Francis reached them, wrapping his arms around Arthur to keep him upright. After a quick glance at Francis, Arthur looked back down, watching Alfred shove his trousers and underwear out of the way. He even gently removed Arthur's socks and shoes, throwing them aside so that Arthur's clothes were strewn across the stage: it made it look as though they were in the middle of an erotic play. In fact, with Alfred's position, it looked to Arthur as if Alfred was worshipping him, turning him on even more.

"Al," he murmured, gaining his attention. He wasn't aware how he looked but Alfred's eyes widened and a deep blush spread across his cheeks. Alfred shot to his feet and, before Arthur could blink, he pulled Arthur into a deep kiss, Arthur's body flush against his. The movement made him rub against Alfred, his cock rubbing against a now conspicuous bulge in Alfred's jeans.

Behind him, Francis's hands landed on his hips and another clothed bulge rubbed against him, pressed against his arse, parting his cheeks with how large it was. Arthur moaned into the kiss and ground back against Francis before bucking against Alfred. He felt like he was losing his mind, craving more pleasure and friction and his partners closer and less clothes...

Breaking away from Alfred's kiss, he tugged at his t-shirt. "Off. You... Both of you have too many clothes on."

Alfred immediately reached down to pull his shirt off. However, he was stopped when Francis reached around Arthur to grasp Alfred's wrists. "Wait," he said, softly. It sounded soothing, clearly meant to keep Alfred from whining.

It didn't work.

"What _now_?" Alfred complained.

"I have to prepare Arthur. It'll take a while, darling, so _you_ should give him something to look at," Francis explained.

Frowning, Alfred looked between Francis and Arthur, searching for an answer that he didn't find. "What do you mean?"

"Do a strip tease," said Francis, his tone teasing Alfred again.

"Huh?" Alfred's blush deepened. "But... There's... There's no music..."

Arthur scoffed. "You don't need music to strip, Alfred."

"Hmm... Okay... But it's still unfair that you get to touch Arthur more than me!"

Sighing into Arthur's ear, Francis said. "Yes. I know. You can do it next time. Or the two of you can fuck me instead. Either way is fine with me."

It took Alfred a moment to reply, his eyes distant. Then he said, "Or you can both do me..."

Frustrated, Arthur snapped, "Can we stop talking about the future when I'm on a stage, naked and hard? Get on with it!"

Both men chuckled and Alfred nodded. He backed off a little so that he'd be in full view of Arthur while Francis quickly stripped himself behind him. Arthur felt a little lost and unsure what to do but he hesitantly turned to the cushions. When neither of them stopped him, Arthur knelt down so that he was facing Alfred. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Francis kicking off his trousers. Francis then turned to him, his erection looking all the bigger for the knowledge that he was about to have it inside of him, have it thrusting into him, have it pounding into his prostate. Smiling at him, Francis stroked Arthur's hair a few times, almost as if he was petting Arthur like a dog. But he stopped before Arthur could protest, letting his hand rest gently on the back of his head.

"Could you brace yourself on the floor, please, Arthur?" he said quietly, gently pressing Arthur's head downwards.

Arthur did as he was told, well aware that he was about to be given pleasure. His body still yearned for it, even if his mind was a little clearer, was questioning why he was letting himself be taken so easily. After all, he could have demanded to be in charge, demanded he be the one thrusting into Alfred and blowing Francis. But, even as he thought that, another voice informed him that he would have had to think more, to be more aware, to remember. And Arthur desperately wanted to forget.

Once he was on his hands and knees, thankful that the cushions didn't make him wobble, he heard Francis kneel down behind him. Alfred stood a few feet away, beyond the trail of cushions with his feet planted at shoulder-width but stopped there, obviously waiting for some sign, perhaps a word from Francis. The man behind him, however, busied himself with opening a condom and the lube. For some time, Arthur felt like he'd been left to fend for himself and was tempted to sit back up to pleasure himself or lower himself to the cushions and grind against the button.

Thankfully, Francis finally seemed ready, one hand spreading one of Arthur's arse cheeks. The anticipation sent pleasurable tingles through his body. It only increased when he felt Francis's finger rub up and down, passing over his hole. When he finally pressed against it, circling his finger, Francis paused again and spoke to Alfred.

"You can start undressing now, Alfred. Remember – go slow."

"R-Right..." muttered Alfred and, after a beat, he raised his hands and teasingly ran them down his body, pressing his lips together.

Even as he did that, Francis began to push his finger in. It was slick enough to slip in, passing rings of muscle with some resistance. The discomfort had Arthur biting a lip, tensing against the intrusion and the desire to squirm. Francis slowly continued, a knuckle making its way inside. Arthur bit his lip harder and his eyes flickered closed for an instant before he forced them open to look at Alfred. He had slid his hands down to his waist and he teasingly drew his shirt up as he moved them upwards again; he didn't grip it, however, so that it only showed some of his lovely skin before it dropped back down as his hands passed ever upwards.

Trying to muffle his groan, Arthur swayed a little, wishing he could just yank Alfred's t-shirt out of the way. But Francis's free hand came around to grasp his hip and keep him in place. It calmed him a little even as Francis's finger pushed in further. Arthur couldn't hold back a gasp as he felt the long digit continuing inwards: how much more would go in?

Finally, it seemed to be all the way in, the knuckles of Francis's other fingers bumping against his arse. Arthur hummed in approval, wriggling slightly as he got used to the sensation. Francis's free hand left his hip to rub up and down his lower back which relaxed him. His eyes slid half-shut and a pleased smile spread onto his face, unbidden. Luckily, he could still see Alfred and watched him take hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and slowly begin to pull it upwards. Arthur hummed again, eyes locked on Alfred's stomach muscles which shifted as he moved.

Behind him, Francis pulled his finger out till only the tip was left in, his other hand still massaging Arthur's back. Just as Alfred's t-shirt revealed his nipples, Francis thrust his finger back in. Arthur grunted and keened, watching as Alfred paused with his shirt around his neck. They stared at each other as Francis began to slowly fuck Arthur with his finger, steadily picking up the pace. Chest-deep noises began to escape Arthur and Alfred chose that moment to quickly pull the t-shirt fully off and throw it aside.

Another finger circled Arthur's hole when Francis pulled out again but he didn't push it in, only thrusting one back in as he leaned forward. He ducked his head down as far as he could and stage-whispered to Arthur. "Look at Alfred. Don't you think he looks hot, Arthur? Don't you think he's sexy? Don't you want to lick all the way along his body? Do you want to mark him like we did to you last time?"

A whimper escaped Arthur before he could clamp down on it. "Y-Yes," he said, his chest heaving, heart pounding. "Please," he added, trying to thrust back onto Francis's finger.

"Please what?"

"More."

"As you wish," said Francis and began to push his second finger in. The stretch was painful but also felt _right_ , as if he had been made to take Francis's fingers up the arse. As he stayed still, waiting for Francis to get all of his second finger in, Alfred kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. Arthur was thankful that he hadn't bothered to move slowly for that and he was allowed to focus on the burn of having two fingers inside of him.

Of course, Francis was careful with him and, once he'd gotten his second finger all the way in, he stayed still. Arthur made pained noises in his throat as he willed his body to relax. But his arse still clenched and unclenched around the intrusion. All three of them were still, Alfred seemingly waiting until Arthur was able to watch him without screwing up his eyes.

It wasn't long, however, until Francis began to pull out. Arthur moaned at the feeling of emptiness his fingers left behind and he had to bite his lip to keep from pouting. As soon as he had almost pulled them out all the way, Francis thrust back in, quick and deep. Arthur gave a throaty moan and threw his head back – just in time to see Alfred slowly unbuckling his belt.

Focussing on him, he watched as Alfred tugged the leather out of the silvery buckle. Arthur vaguely wondered if it actually was silver before Francis thrust back in and had him moaning again. His eyelids fluttered but he forced them open as Alfred took hold of the buckle and began to slowly slide it out of his belt loops. It was tantalising, especially with Arthur's head being level with his crotch. Mouth opening and closing, quiet moans escaping him with every thrust of Francis's fingers, Arthur found himself yearning for Alfred's cock.

With a crack of leather, Alfred's belt was finally fully removed – and Francis suddenly began to scissor his fingers, startling Arthur and making him groan. His body felt hot all over, the stretch was hurting him, pleasure ran throughout his veins and centred on his throbbing cock, his mouth watered at the sight of Alfred throwing his belt aside. If he asked nicely, would Alfred spank him with it? Another movement of Francis's fingers had him gasping and shifting, trying to thrust backwards. Despite not being fully ready, he wanted more, much more – and he wanted it now.

So it was agonising to watch Alfred slowly unbuttoning his jeans and catching hold of the zip. Arthur found himself whining, shifting forward in an attempt to get to Alfred before thrusting himself back on Francis's widening fingers. Alfred ran out of zip and he put his thumbs under his waistband, sliding them around and back again as he waited as if for some sort of sign. Whining again, Arthur thrust back onto Francis's fingers once again.

" _Please_ ," he said. "Please, Al, Fran-ah! _Please_!"

"Ah, are you ready for the third finger?" asked Francis. "And are you ready for Alfred take off the rest of his clothes?"

" _Yes_ ," Arthur grumbled. " _Please_."

And Francis rewarded him: with no warning, he pushed in a third finger, easily sliding it in beside the others. As he did that, Alfred slid his jeans down, pushing them to his knees before letting them fall to the floor. With only his tightly-fitted boxers to cover him, Alfred stepped out of his jeans and kicked them aside. Arthur followed them with his eyes and barely saw them land at the very edge of the stage before he had to shut his eyes in pleasure as Francis began to thrust in and out of him, twisting his hand around as he did so.

Groaning and meeting Francis's thrusts, Arthur watched Alfred playing with his underwear. To begin with, he traced its outline. They were a navy colour, little writing in the waistband that Arthur couldn't make out. Then Alfred trailed his fingers over the bulge the boxers were barely keeping contained. Arthur moaned at the sight of him doing that and moaned even more with a particular thrust from Francis as Alfred began to rub himself, Alfred's hips twitching as his eyes fluttered shut.

While Alfred played with himself, Francis began to turn his fingers inside of Arthur, making him groan a little louder. He was evidently searching, prodding against Arthur's walls. Knowing what he was searching for had Arthur groaning again, the noise echoing back to them.

It didn't take too much longer for Francis to find what he was looking for. As Alfred took a better hold of himself, stroking his entire length through the boxers, Francis's fingers brushed against that spot deep within Arthur. Pleasure shot through him and he yelled in surprise, chasing after the fingers that Francis was in the process of moving away. "There!" he cried, the shout echoing back to them.

"Oh, I found it," sang Francis, brushing against it again. Arthur cried out once more and, in his aroused state, he looked up at Alfred with a pleading expression. Alfred whimpered as he stared back and was quick to shift his hands to hook his thumbs in his damp boxers.

"Yes, yes!" Arthur breathed, trying to fuck himself on Francis's fingers. He wanted so badly to take hold of his own cock and give it a few strokes but he didn't want to fall over and lose Francis's fingers from inside him. Instead, he stayed still as Francis teasingly brushed against his prostate again, a muffled shout escaping his pursed lips.

Before him, Alfred shoved down his boxers, letting his large dick spring free. Arthur licked his lips as he stared at it, eyes locked on his target. He barely noticed Alfred kicking the boxers free, willing him to come closer. Instead, Alfred began to stroke himself, moaning low in his throat as his fingers squeezed tight around himself.

Another spike of pleasure flashed through Arthur as Francis brushed against his prostate again and he cried out. "Please!" he exclaimed. "Francis, stop _teasing_! Alf- Ah! Al, please!"

Again, Alfred groaned, speeding up his ministrations. Francis's free hand ran over Arthur's back as he paused. "Teasing?" he asked.

"Francis," Arthur growled, trying to thrust back and angle it so that Francis's fingers would press against the spot they'd found.

"Oh? You want this?" Francis asked.

Without getting the chance to reply, Francis twisted his fingers once more and pushed inside of Arthur. They were at the perfect angle to hit Arthur's prostate dead on, pressing against it. Sparks of pleasure continuously hit Arthur over and over again. His yell was so loud that it filled his ears, echoing around him. All he could think of was the pleasure and more, more, _more_ -

Empty.

Crying out, this time quieter, Arthur squirmed in his place, confused as to why there was nothing filling his hole. Cold air hit him, making him shudder. He felt as if he'd been on the verge of overwhelming pleasure but, now, he was coming down. Achingly hard, Arthur was aware that he could feel something dribbling along his length: he was leaking pre-cum. Then he was able to focus on the other two and realised that Francis was shifting behind him while Alfred was closer than he had been before, his erection in Arthur's face.

"Are you ready, Arthur?" murmured Francis.

"Mm, yes," Arthur quickly replied.

"And are ya sure you wanna do this?" Alfred asked, sounding a little breathless.

" _Yes_ ," Arthur insisted, though his heart felt a little warmer for Alfred's concern.

"Then stay as still as you can," Francis told him, resting one hand on Arthur's hip.

"Yes," Arthur repeated, a little distractedly. He could feel Francis's cock bumping against his thighs as Francis shifted further forward. After a little shuffling, Francis's hard dick was finally pressed against his hole.

"We'll both push in on three, okay, Arthur?" said Francis, rubbing a thumb against Arthur's side. Arthur nodded. "You ready, Alfred?"

"God, _yes_ ," said Alfred, shuffling forward himself until his cock was brushing against Arthur's lips. As soon as he did, Arthur gave in to temptation (though, he didn't try very hard to resist) and quickly darted his tongue out, lapping up some of Alfred's pre-cum. It was a salty taste but Arthur thought it was amazing and moaned his approval. He didn't waste any time in letting his tongue hang out, licking at Alfred's tip. " _Fuck_ ," Alfred breathed above him and Arthur looked up at him from under his eyelashes. Alfred was bent over, body trembling, hand hovering over Arthur's head. Impatient, Arthur reached up to grab Alfred's hand and drag it down till he could tangle his fingers in Arthur's hair. Alfred did so immediately, staring down at Arthur in awe as he gazed back, eyes fluttering while he continued to lap at Alfred's dick as if he was a cat faced with a saucer of cream. "Fuck," Alfred repeated, not taking his eyes from Arthur's. "I am _so_ ready."

"So I see," said Francis, dryly. "Then: one." His grip on Arthur's hip tightened. "Two." Alfred's grip on his hair also tightened and he shifted, Arthur able to reach more of his cock. "Three," Francis finished and both Alfred and Francis pushed in.

Francis's cock pushed against the ring of muscle attempting to deny him entry. But Arthur opened up for him, the muscle stretching. It burned and sent pain rocketing around his body. However, he was being filled and he could feel Francis's dick throbbing as he shoved the tip in. Arthur heard Francis gasp and the man paused, clearly waiting for Arthur to relax.

Alfred's cock slid easily into Arthur's open mouth. It was heavy on his tongue, tasting of salt and sweat and _Alfred_. An addictive taste: Arthur already wanted more and they'd only just started. Obediently opening his mouth as wide as it could go, Arthur accepted far more of Alfred's dick than he had of Francis's. In, in, in it went until it reached the back of Arthur's throat. Alfred stopped then, panting above Arthur.

Pain prickled on Arthur's hair from Alfred's tightening grip. Throbbing discomfort slowly lessened in his arse till he found himself wanting more. Alfred's tasty cock was begging to be sucked. A hand stroked over his back, massaging the pain away. Everything had narrowed to the pleasure Arthur was feeling – and he wanted more.

Eventually, Arthur had to thrust himself back onto Francis's cock in an effort to let him know he was ready. He moaned around Alfred as Francis slid a little further in. Alfred's fingers curled tighter and the lust filling Arthur's head cleared enough for him to remember that he should be sucking on him. He quickly began with a quick suck, his cheeks hollowing. Arthur's tongue curled around Alfred's cock, moving up and down in an effort to make it seem like someone was stroking him.

Before he could revel in the moans drifting down to him, he had to let go of his grip on Alfred's dick to gasp as Francis began to push further in. It was more painful now as more of him stretched him even further. But there was pleasure there as well and he gripped the cushions beneath him tightly. As more of Francis entered him, arms came around his middle, holding him tightly as Francis used the leverage to push further in. In contrast, Alfred stayed mostly still, only occasionally bucking his hips in tiny movements, hitting the back of Arthur's throat every time.

It was both far too long and no time at all until Francis was fully inside of Arthur, stretching him even further. Arthur could hear Francis breathing heavily behind him. The arms encircling him squeezed him tightly, a comfort as the pain throbbed within him, too much to be pleasurable yet. Alfred's hips were still shifting; he was clearly doing his utmost not to overwhelm Arthur.

Slowly, the comforting feeling of being completely filled pushed back the pain, covering it with a bliss that Arthur wanted more of. To make Francis move, Arthur thrust back onto him. While he rocked back onto Francis, he began to suck at Alfred more, bobbing his head and letting his lips pull along his length. His tongue wrapped around Alfred's cock as he shifted.

Moans from two sources filled his ears; if he didn't have a cock in his mouth, he'd have smirked and made a smug comment. Instead, he whined until his two partners began to move. Francis was the first to understand what he wanted and began to drag his cock out from him. His whine grew louder as Alfred also pulled back out, just a trifle slower than Francis. Then, with a gentle hand on the back of his head, Alfred pushed back in, slow, careful. Francis also pushed in, even more slowly, making Arthur moan around Alfred.

For a few minutes, the three of them got used to each other's bodies. Arthur kept his mouth wide, encouraging Alfred with laps of his tongue and drawing Francis back inside by rocking backwards. His two partners kept up a steady pace. Uncomfortable twinges gave way to pleasure which slowly took over Arthur, making him move a little faster, scrabbling at Alfred's legs and Francis's arms and the cushions.

Soon Francis and Alfred were moving faster, thrusting deeper. With every thrust, Alfred hit the back of Arthur's throat. He tried to encourage Alfred to move deeper in but Alfred seemed lost in his own pleasure, his hand tight in Arthur's hair. Francis's thrusts made Arthur shift forward with every thrust but, since Alfred could move without fear of hurting Arthur too much, they were never in time to thrust Alfred's cock deeper.

The panting and moans of his partners above him slowly gave way to muttered curses. Francis changed that by speaking directly to Arthur. "Ah, Arthur. So tight! Feels so good... Doesn't he, Alfred?"

"Oh, fuck!" was Alfred's response. "Fuck, yes." He thrust into Arthur's mouth again as Francis pulled out.

Chuckling, Francis asked, "Was that a response – ah! – to me or- ooh!"

"Ah! Francis... Yeah. His mouth. So warm, so goo-oo-ah! _Fuck_!" Alfred's grip on Arthur's hair tightened further, causing him pain which just made Arthur's pleasure spark. He smirked around Alfred's cock: he had just given him a particularly hard suck which had made him break off from what he was saying.

"So," said Francis, panting as he kept moving. "You have as talented a mouth as your acting suggests. A silver tongue, perhaps." He paused to suck in a breath as Arthur deliberately squeezed around him. His movements faltered for a moment before continuing onwards, his thrusts a little slower and longer. "And you have a lovely tight ass. Perfection."

"God, Artie's always perfect, Fran," Alfred gasped, his thrusting gaining speed. "Fuck. Just a little more..."

Arthur made a muffled noise to attract their attention beyond using him as holes to fuck. Looking up through his eyelashes, he caught sight of Alfred's lust-hazed eyes catching his, blinking dumbly at him. With another muffled sound, he awkwardly lifted his hands, letting Francis's arms keep him upright. Arthur reached back and grabbed at Francis's hip, trying to pull him forward. At the same time, he wrapped his other hand around the base of Alfred's cock which, so far, didn't fit into Arthur's mouth. He tried his hardest to pull Alfred's dick further into his mouth but couldn't manage.

"Hm," said Francis, stilling. His tone seemed to stop Alfred, too, and he stopped as well. It drew a whine from Arthur, his eyes flickering from side to side in an attempt to communicate his displeasure to Alfred.

"What?" asked Alfred breathlessly, still staring into Arthur's eyes.

"I think Arthur wants us to time our thrusts better. Right, Arthur?"

He nodded his approval and tried to rock back against Francis while pulling Alfred further into his mouth. Unfortunately, it didn't work and he was merely left frustrated. For a second, he considered pulling off Alfred completely in order to speak but Francis's hand on his back stopped him.

"How about we both pull out, Alfred?" Francis suggested. "I'll count to three and we both thrust in at the same time, quickly. That should make Arthur rock further forward onto your cock..."

"But... That'll hurt him!" Alfred protested.

"It'll make him deepthroat you," said Francis, simply. "Which is what he wants. Right, Arthur?"

Again, Arthur nodded his approval. Then he looked up at Alfred with pleading eyes, trying to show him just how much he wanted Alfred to force himself deeper, to be further in so that Arthur could swallow around him. He could almost see how much Alfred would enjoy that and he hoped Alfred would give his consent.

Swallowing, Alfred stared right back, clearly marvelling at him. Finally, he nodded and looked up at Francis. "Okay."

So both of them pulled out. Arthur whimpered as they went slower than they had been, leaving him feeling empty again. His tongue automatically lapped around Alfred's dick, catching some more drops of pre-cum. What he wouldn't give to be able to drink down his cum right now... Distracted as he was, he missed the beginning of the countdown. Realising Francis was speaking, Arthur paused in his ministrations and opened his mouth even wider, trying to listen.

"-three!" Francis exclaimed.

Eyes wide in surprise, Arthur felt both of them thrust in at the same time. His arse was blissfully filled with a deep, hard thrust – one which definitely rocked his body forward. Meanwhile, his throat was assaulted by Alfred's cock – and, as he rocked forward, it did push forward even more, going deeper than before. Arthur swallowed around him, a little dazed at the pain he felt in both ends along with the pleasure which coursed through him, making his own dick throb with need.

Above him, both men groaned. When they'd finished revelling in the sensations, Francis instructed Alfred to pull out. Then they counted down and thrust back in, far quicker than before. Steadily building the pace, Arthur could do nothing but cling to the cushions, revelling in the feeling of being completely filled, over and over. Soon, all he could think of was the pleasure, the pain completely gone. He squeezed around Francis and swallowed around Alfred whenever he remembered but, otherwise, he was at their mercy, rocking backwards and forwards with each thrust.

"God, fuck, Arthur!" Alfred cried out.

"My beautiful Arthur. So good. So tight!" Francis declared.

Moaning was the only thing Arthur could do to show his pleasure.

It felt like they'd been there forever, moaning, fucking, filling, shouting, echoing, when Alfred's thrusts became a little erratic, going out of sync. It displeased Arthur and he wriggled in his spot, trying to force Alfred down his throat more. But Alfred soon stilled completely and, when Arthur looked up at him to see what the problem was, reached out to grab hold of Francis. That made Francis still as well, probably surprised.

"St-Stop," Alfred panted. "I... I can't..."

"I'm sure Arthur won't mind you coming, Alfred," Francis told him with a perplexed tone.

"No. It's not that. I'm close, but not that close. Not yet. I just... I can't stand up any more..."

Turning his eyes downwards, Arthur glanced over Alfred's legs. Sure enough, they were trembling badly and it looked as though they wouldn't hold him up much longer. But Arthur wanted him to continue so badly, for them both to continue. All that mattered was that he was fucked even more, that he came on the stage where anyone could see...

Francis rubbed at Arthur's back. "Then, I suppose you'll have to kneel down. Or sit, I suppose. Arthur, darling, you may need to suck him off rather than deepthroating him." A whine was Arthur's response to that and a quick shake of the head. Francis chuckled. "Come on, darling. I know you're enjoying yourself but Alfred has to enjoy himself, too..." Trying to pout, Arthur sighed through his nose. Francis was right, of course. He reluctantly nodded. "Good," said Francis. "Now, down you go, Alfred."

Carefully, Alfred got down on his knees, Arthur helping to steady him with one hand. He pouted, of course, when Alfred had to pull out of his mouth in order to get onto a cushion. Something ran down to his chin and he realised that he'd been drooling. He licked his lips and chased Alfred down, searching for him with his mouth and ignoring the mess he was in. As soon as Alfred was settled, Arthur's mouth was on Alfred's cock, slowly parting around the tip as he took him back in, pushing his head down further and further. Alfred groaned in pleasure, his hands resting on Arthur's bowed head and shoulder.

As Arthur continued to suck and lick at Alfred's dick, a hand constantly stroking what wasn't in his mouth, Francis began to thrust into him again. His entire length dragged within Arthur and he groaned around his mouthful. Alfred echoed his moan above him, fingers tangling in Arthur's hair again.

At one point, there was a slight change in angle from Francis's thrusts which surprised Arthur enough that he turned his head to look, making sure to keep his tongue pressed against Alfred. He was able to see that Francis was leaning over him, hand outstretched to tug Alfred towards him. They were kissing above him, a messy, passionate kiss. It was an erotic sight and Arthur couldn't stop another loud moan escaping as he licked his way from base to tip of Alfred's cock. He kept his eyes locked with the scene above him, happy he had a front row seat to the delicious show.

However, they kept it up for several minutes and Francis was too distracted to make powerful enough thrusts to satisfy Arthur. Frustrated and needing more stimulus, Arthur enveloped Alfred's dick entirely, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing several times around the tip which knocked against the back of his throat. That had the desired effect: Alfred broke away from the kiss, cried out and bucked his hips. Ignoring the pain and the desire to gag, Arthur bobbed his head up and back down, sucking all the while.

"Fuck! No, Art-! Ah! Sto-! God, fucking-!" Alfred doubled over Arthur, his hands coming to tangle in Arthur's hair, tugging slightly. "Wait, I'm gonna-! Oh, fuck, so _good_! Fran, it's- He's got such a goo-!" He broke off when Arthur gave a particularly hard suck and yelled, the yell echoing around him. Cum squirted down Arthur's throat and he quickly backed off so he could catch some on his tongue and taste it.

While Arthur swallowed down the first lot of his cum, Francis started up a better pace. Chuckling, he said, "Well, well. And here I thought you had stamina, Alfred."

The man in question tried to reply but merely made a grunt as Arthur pulled off him, catching the cum as he desired. Once he'd pulled off completely, he left his tongue out until he'd caught Alfred's eye. When he had, he watched Alfred's eyes flicker down, waited a beat, then pulled his tongue into his mouth, swirled it around a bit to savour the taste and swallowed as much as he could. Some dribbled down his chin to mix with his drool from before, likely making him a mess.

In front of him, Alfred stared, eyes lidded as he watched Arthur push himself back up. Francis's thrusts were shallow again, as if he was waiting for something. Arthur growled, unable to bring himself to form words, and rocked back onto him, trying to get him deeper inside. For a few moments, he struggled with Francis until an arm wrapped around his waist and a hand pressed against his chest, pushing him upwards. Confused, he let himself be drawn upwards until he was kneeling in front of Francis, his cock buried deep within Arthur and Arthur's own dick on full display for Alfred.

"Darling," Francis murmured in his ear. "Would you like to be touched?" A shudder ran through Arthur at those words and he gasped. "I know you haven't had the chance to jerk yourself off – which is good. I don't want you coming just yet. But now... I think Alfred can be useful, hm?"

Quickly nodding, Arthur returned his attention to the dazed Alfred. He blinked upon hearing his name and looked between them. "Huh?" he said, dumbly.

"Jerk Arthur off," Francis ordered.

Alfred's attention quickly dropped to Arthur's crotch, eyeing his erection. "Huh. Okay. I could use my mouth..."

"No, no." Francis's voice dropped low and Alfred leaned forward to hear better, his lips tantalisingly close to Arthur's. "No," Francis continued, his own lips brushing against Arthur's ear. "I'm going to hit his prostate now – a mouth on his cock would be too much, wouldn't it, Arthur?"

His only response was a long, drawn-out moan which filled the theatre. There was absolutely no way he would last with something as hot and wet as Alfred's mouth encasing him while Francis sent spikes of pleasure straight to his dick. He let his head fall back at the thought, Francis's shoulder propping him up. Arthur seemed to be getting closer to climax with every word Francis spoke: he probably wouldn't last long even with just a hand.

Seeming to understand Arthur's response, Alfred slowly nodded. "Right..." he said, slowly. It was clear he was still coming down from his high but he managed to kick his brain in gear long enough to shuffle closer and reach out to grasp Arthur in hand.

"Now," Francis said, distracting Arthur from the lovely feeling of Alfred's hand around his cock. "Let's see if we can't find that spot again."

Arthur whimpered in response and braced himself.

They both started off slow. Alfred's hand dragged along Arthur's dick with barely any pressure. As Francis shifted to slightly different angles, speeding up, Alfred increased the pressure, squeezing Arthur more and more. It was the blissful friction Arthur had been craving for a while and it made him throb with need. His hips tried to buck into Alfred's fist but also rock back onto Francis.

Feeling full was also heavenly and Arthur was happy just to be thrust into over and over. But Francis was clearly not satisfied. Each thrust was different with an accompanying burn and stretch and mild spark of pleasure. His hands kept Arthur upright and Arthur was grateful for that: he had no doubt he would be struggling to keep himself propped up on his own.

A few moments passed like that before Alfred leaned forward. Arthur knew what he wanted and tilted his head up to meet him. Their kiss was lazy; Arthur was panting from the increasing arousal and Alfred was still not out of his afterglow. His free hand came up to rest on Arthur's chest, fingers caressing his nipple. They broke apart when Francis gave a particularly hard thrust and Arthur gasped. As soon as he was free of Alfred's lips, Francis's hand moved to tilt Arthur's head around towards him and claim a heated kiss of his own. This kiss was deeper and involved more tongue, more passion, more desperation. Arthur responded in kind, particularly when he felt Alfred's lips on his neck, his chest, his teeth digging in to leave marks. When Francis and Arthur broke apart for breath, Arthur had barely caught his before Alfred's lips were on his, Francis's finding places on Arthur to mark himself.

That went on for a short time before Francis shifted once more and, upon his next thrust in, a spike of pleasure shot through Arthur's entire being. He broke free from Francis's mouth to cry out, arching back, his body taut from surprise. Everything stilled for a moment as Francis stopped, Alfred slowly catching on to squeeze Arthur's cock to stop him from coming. It took several seconds of panting before Arthur realised everything had stopped. Then he whined, trying to move but Francis's hands on his waist stopped him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Whuh?" said Arthur, confused, horny and filled with _need_.

"We're gonna make you come, Artie," said Alfred with a grin.

"Yeah," Arthur sighed, happily.

Apparently, that was all the consent they needed for them to start up again. This time, Francis was constantly thrusting against that sweet spot, over and over, pleasure rolling through Arthur. At the same time, Alfred was stroking him in earnest, his grip tight and dragging lovely friction along his length. While they did that, they continued their kissing game, one of them kissing Arthur and the other marking him.

Soon, it became all Arthur could sense. Pleasure. Fullness. Friction. Something to buck into. Thumb flicking over his tip. Kissing Alfred, kissing Francis – he lost track of whose lips were whose. Was Francis sucking on his nipple while he fervently snogged Alfred? Was Alfred dragging his teeth down his shoulderblade while Francis sucked on his tongue. It no longer mattered. All there was was pleasure, tugs of pain, his chest was full, pleasure, pleasure, coiling pressure, so close, so close, so good-

All too soon, after so long on the brink, Arthur screamed as he came, riding his orgasm so high he felt like he had launched himself upwards. He thought he shouted a name in that scream, a strange amalgamation of Alfred and Francis's name: ' _Alf-ran_ ', he thought it might be. But the waves of pleasure drowned those thoughts and it didn't matter to him any more.

As he drifted back down to earth, he felt his body shaking as Francis continued to thrust into him. Arthur vaguely thought that his thrusts were erratic but he couldn't concentrate on that: each thrust caused another wave of pleasure to burst over him. Francis was clearly still slamming into his prostate. He didn't mind; Arthur was too blissed out to care about much in that moment, a happy smile on his face as he felt pleasure in being able to help Francis come, in being something to be fucked instead of a person.

With a final couple of thrusts, though, and a tightening of Francis's arms around him, Francis came. He buried himself deep within Arthur causing him to cry as he hit his prostate once again, this time with more force. But, as Francis shuddered, Arthur finally landed from his high, relaxing into Francis's arms. Arthur was aware that Alfred was stroking his sweaty hair out of his eyes, his hand to his mouth as he licked Arthur's cum.

It was another erotic sight and Arthur shuddered as well, wondering briefly if they would end up having another round right there and then.

However, that was soon answered as Francis slumped and both he and Arthur toppled over, landing half on the cushions and half on the wooden stage. They lay there, entangled, until, after catching his breath, Francis pulled out. Arthur let him, still rather dazed from one of the best orgasms he had ever had in his life. In fact, he was sure it was number one, if he could ever get his brain to work again to compare sexual encounters. Instead of moving too far, though, Francis pulled off the condom, tied it up and left it to the side before he moved close to Arthur, sprawling across his prone body.

There was a short silence which, predictably, Alfred filled. "Come here, you two," he said, catching their attention enough that both of them raised their heads to look over. "That does _not_ look comfortable."

His words drew Arthur's attention to the pain in his arse and throat and the twinges in his muscles from the way he was lying. Alfred, meanwhile, looked comfortable enough, seated as he was on the stained cushions, cross-legged. He grinned at them and beckoned with his arms. Grimacing, Arthur tried to move, his arms and legs shaking terribly. In fact, he was so wobbly that Francis – who had been able to push himself to his knees – wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist once again and hauled him upright. Between him and Alfred, they got Arthur onto the cushion next to Alfred and leaning against his side, head nuzzled in Alfred's shoulder. Francis chose to drape himself over the both of them, arms flopping beside them. Alfred chuckled at that and began to stroke Arthur's hair with one hand; with his other, he held Francis's hand, fingers interlocked and thumb rubbing gentle circles into Francis's skin.

Time seemed to pass at the speed of treacle. Arthur figured he was dozing but couldn't bring himself to move. It was comforting being like that, especially when he felt so sated, so complete. He was willing to stay there on that stage forever, new owners be damned.

Unfortunately, Arthur's mind returned to him and he soon realised that he'd been an idiot once more. How had he let this happen again? It may have distracted him from his troubles for an instant but they were all coming back to him now. He needed to leave, to apologise, to run away.

Because, despite falling into bed with Alfred and Francis – so to speak – for the second time, he still had no idea how he felt about either of them. He was still conflicted. On the one hand, he enjoyed spending time with them, they were good friends and, frankly, the sex was fantastic; on the other, he didn't think he felt as strongly as the other two did about him and they still irritated him with all their money and fancy clothes and the way they would sometimes look down on him, even if they were only teasing...

He wanted to leave and never look back; he didn't want to move. He wanted to return to England; there were no jobs waiting and he would be better off here. He wanted to let himself be protected by these men; he didn't need their affections. He hated them; he liked them far too much. He needed time; he wanted to dive in without waiting.

In short, his head was still in a muddle and he had no idea what to do nor how to slip away when he had to sneak out of a building that didn't belong to him. Sighing, he shifted, aware that they needed to get moving. Maybe he could flee from them and avoid them until he'd gotten his head on straight.

"Listen," said Alfred before Arthur could push away from him. "We have some good news."

"Hm?" Arthur's throat still hurt and he didn't want to say much at the moment.

"It's about the theatre," Francis added to which Arthur made a noise, trying to discourage him. But Francis continued, regardless: "We found a way to save it."

"It's too late," Arthur croaked before coughing in an attempt to soothe his throat.

"No," Alfred retorted and Arthur could almost hear his grin. "We bought it for you."

A very short silence followed. It was broken by Arthur surging upright, almost headbutting Alfred as he sat up. He looked between them, eyes wide. Had they just said...? "What?" he demanded.

"We pooled our resources," Francis explained, pushing himself up to kneel in front of Arthur. "We're now the joint owners of this theatre."

"Yeah, and, get this!" Alfred interjected. "If you quit your horrible job, you can be the manager for us! We'll pay you and make sure you have money for, like, doing it up and stuff. Then ya can put on plays and stuff and bring in money and it'll be awesome. Right, Fran?"

"Exactly. What do you say?"

Arthur stared at them, his dazed brain still unable to comprehend. "You... Why did you do that?"

Alfred looked bemused. "What do you mean? We told you: we bought it for you."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Francis chuckled. "Because we care for you, Arthur. Deeply. We thought you'd be pleased...?"

"Well," said Arthur, at a loss for words. "Yes. But..."

"Come on, Artie!" Alfred cried, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist and pulling him against him. Francis's arms ended up around Arthur as well, hugging him just as tightly. "You get to manage the theatre, we get a new investment _and_ we get to do stuff like this all the time. I mean, we'll go on dates and stuff, too, but the sex is awesome. Right, Fran?"

"Yes it is," Francis replied, burying his head in Arthur's chest and smiling against him. "I can't wait for more," came his muffled voice.

For a while, they sat silently, Arthur still trying to work out exactly what was going on. Then something clicked and their words seemed to connect. _Theatre_. _Manager_. _Sex_.

In other words, Arthur realised, they wanted him to have sex with them while he managed their theatre. They were gifting him the theatre – in a way – in exchange for sex. Which he _would not do_ -! But would they hold it over him? Would they employ someone else as the manager, ban Arthur from the theatre? Would he lose a place he had begun to think of as a home? The sex was good, he agreed with that, but he didn't want to sell himself so easily... If it would save the theatre... Preserve the theatre group he loved...

Thoughts swirled around Arthur's head, almost suffocating him with their heaviness. Then, slowly, a thought came to him, unbidden. Others swiftly followed on its tail. Together, they formed a plan. At the same time, that plan closed the shutters on Arthur's heart and he locked them tight.

"Yes," said Arthur, smiling as happily as he could. "I'll do it!"

And, as Alfred and Francis cheered, gathering him in his arms, Arthur thought: he'd show them he didn't want or need a handsome hero to swoop in to save him or a pretty prince to carry him off on his noble steed. Not if they were going to treat him as a pathetic heroine who was only good for a particular happy ending...

**Author's Note:**

> [All the world's a stage quote is by Shakespeare. Obviously.](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/you-it-act-ii-scene-vii-all-worlds-stage)
> 
> The end is a beginning! The beginning of a bigger story, the beginning of the theatre's new lease of life and the beginning of their relationship!
> 
> Speaking of which, I've marked it as a harmful relationship because... Well, Arthur's under the impression that they're using him for sex. Whereas Alfred is completely and utterly in love with Arthur but not quite there with Francis and Francis isn't quite in love with either of them yet and...
> 
> Basically, it's a mess and they need to _communicate_.
> 
> Anyways, Arthur's plan's not that amazing. He basically saves up over the following months and buys the theatre off them. He does it so quickly because Alfred and Francis insist on buying him tons of stuff, usually resulting in him having the same thing twice. So he usually sells off the more important stuff which isn't personalised and ends up rolling in money. Once he's bought the theatre, he tells them he's not going to do anything with them any more and, well, Alfred's heartbroken. And by that point, Francis is in love with him, too, and _his_ heart his broken.
> 
> It takes a while after that for them to make up and specifically state their feelings but they get there - in a nice, loving, polyamorous relationship.
> 
> By the by, I decided that Alfred and Francis had dated in high school. They realised that, while Francis was definitely sexually attracted to Alfred, he wasn't romantically attracted. Alfred had more romantic feelings but realised that he wasn't all _that_ into him. So they broke off. But they kept up an on-again-off-again friends-with-benefits relationship between partners. Until Arthur, at least...


End file.
